


Spoonful of Sugar.

by wily_one24



Category: Veronica Mars - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-28
Updated: 2008-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wily_one24/pseuds/wily_one24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always room for icecream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoonful of Sugar.

**Author's Note:**

> **Rating:** R  
>  **Warning:** Contains the sexin'  
>  **Disclaimer:** You know, I was chatting to RT the other day and he STILL won't give them to me. I know!  
>  **Timeline** : Post Season One.  
> 

*~*~*~*~*  
 **SPOONFUL OF SUGAR**  
*~*~*~*~*

 

 

It starts with icecream.

Phish Food to be exact. Spoonfuls of it, edges melting and gooey before the spoon is even half way to her mouth. The heat is making everything sticky and clammy. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck and her shirt sticks to her spine, the caramel, chocolate and marshmallow concoction makes her lips stick to her teeth and the entire day makes Logan's fingers stick to her thigh.

They sit on her sofa, half twisted half smushed into each other, shovelling spoon after spoon of cold sugar into their mouths, desperate for some form of cessation from the heat that has baked itself into the apartment walls, desperate for a way for either of them to get rid of their hang ups about his own house so that they can enjoy an AC unit that actually works, just plain desperate in general.

The summer has been hot and harsh, kind of a fitting metaphor for their relationship in general. She can't really remember if it was a growing, slowly emerging heat that insinuated itself into the season without her realizing it because she was too focused on solving her cases and being lit on fire, or if appeared out of nowhere the day after Keith was released from hospital.

She just knows it's hot and strong and she can't seem to catch her breath.

Logan's hand drifts aimlessly on her skin, inching high up her leg and back down again. He's drowsy and full and his eagerness for the icecream has waned a lot earlier than hers, he sits back with his head lolling, staring up at the ceiling and she knows he doesn't really realize where his hand is or how high her tshirt has ridden up to reveal her bathing suit, because he would be looking down if he knew.

He wouldn't miss the view.

His bowl is nothing more than a few sticky swirls of mush in the bottom, having been originally laden with half of the amount hers had been. She's prepared, she knows summer and icecream and the thief that is the melting heat. She popped her bowl in the freezer for half an hour while they ate their mains, so her remaining scoops are still fairly solid.

She digs out another spoonful and teases him with it, hovering it near his mouth.

"C'mon Echolls." Even she is surprised with the low husky purr of her voice. "Don't pike out on me now."

"Ugh." His left hand comes up and bats uselessly at her wrist, trying to move the offending spoon. "I can't... I can't... you're inhuman..."

But she grins and leans in closer, the smell of sea and salt on his skin mixing with the deep, dark gooey scent of the spoon.

"Just..." Her lips barely graze the edge of his mouth. "One..." He smiles a little under her mouth. "More..."

Heat and lethargy and spending the day on the beach in a skimpy bikini while Logan paraded in his swim shorts showing off a muscled and tanned body, kissing and teasing each other and flirting with the idea of pushing things further has made her bold. They haven't moved very far past making out and a few over the clothes touching sessions, but sometimes even that is enough.

And sometimes it isn't.

"Stop..."

He pushes her hand away again, but she twists it to get out of his grip and the sludge slides off the spoon and lands awkwardly on his jaw, teetering for a second before slipping over the bone and starting a slide down his neck. He blinks at her, clearly not amused even as she giggles.

"Great."

But his obvious displeasure doesn't deter her as a strong, sudden urge crystallizes into a brilliant idea.

She bends her neck, little pink tongue poking out to lap at his scratchy jawline, tastebuds thrilling to the mix of sugar and salt as her ears thrill to the sound of a low groan. His hands come up to settle on her hips and he pulls her onto his lap. She kneels up and maneuvers herself until she's straddling him.

He doesn't complain.

"Mm." She compliments the taste with a low, throaty grumble of appreciation and a final lick of his neck. "Yummy."

She knows his aim before he even reaches for the spoon and she certainly doesn't fight him when he takes it, just watches, leans back on her heels a little and feels the spread of his thighs under hers. He shoves it carelessly into the mound of icecream left and it comes out already teetering, tilted precariously on the edge.

For the sake of show, she pretends to fight him as he brings it to her mouth, play pushes and giggles and swatting and the movement dislodges the icecream easily. Veronica shivers at the sudden freeze of her chest as a fair sized drop plants itself in her cleavage.

Logan's eyes light up.

"My turn."

He wraps his arms around her back, hands coming nearly all the way to the other side, and pulls her in close, ducks his head so that he can mouth wet and sticky patterns all over the top of her breasts. She can't help the groans and wonders at this new creature that is herself, the sudden confidence and urge and need, all blended together in one wanton package.

"Ohhhhh." She swears she's a lot more coherent in her head, but what else is a girl to say when Logan's thumb is sliding under the little triangle that pretends to be a bikini top covering her left breast. Her nipple springs to embarrassing stiffness. "I thought... I thought you were done."

He chuckles, vibrations doing nothing to stop the slow burning ache in both her nipples.

"There's always room for icecream."

Her bikini top lands on the floor in a limp forgotten twist of material.

She throws her head back and moans even loader at the feel of his mouth sealing over her right nipple and begins to suck in earnest. She thinks maybe he's trying to leave hickeys, make his mark, she doesn't care. She'll wear billboards if it feels like this. His hands are everywhere, sliding up her ribcage, around her back, over the knobs of her spine, fondling the breast that isn't lucky enough to be suckled.

Her hips twist of their own accord, frustrated and needy and he jerks in response.

She grabs the spoon back and digs frantically in the near empty bowl for some more without looking. It lands nowhere near his mouth, she's not even pretending anymore. Light caramel slop on his chest, down his sternum and dripping lower. He grins and leans back, lets her shift a little downwards and begins to lap again.

Long, hearty laves of her tongue along his nipples and the rows of abdominal muscles. She feels his stomach pull in and tremble underneath her, the shiver of him trying to retain some control.

They're both sliding back and forth now, a rhythmic push and pull, her knees planted firmly in the sofa cushions behind his back and his hands gripping her ass. He pulls her up with a growl, mouth to mouth and his hands pressing her so close she can feel his pulse through his hard on.

As they suck on each others tongues, her hands gripping the sides of his face and holding him still so she can devour every last inch of his mouth, she feels him, the tip of him pushing in. This is further than they've ever gone before, further than she can ever remember going with anyone, and she doesn't stop, pushes down even harder so that they both moan as he slides in a little further.

The thought strikes her suddenly that if it wasn't for the two briefest scraps of material they call swimsuits, they would actually be fucking on her father's couch.

"Gah..." And she pushes on his chest, forces herself to pull up and away, her legs shaky as she tries to stand. "We're... uh... we're out of icecream."

The spoon clatters uselessly in the bowl as she steps back again and again until she feels the kitchen bench at her spine, the absolute furthest she can possibly manage to be at that moment.

"Yeah." His voice shakes and his fist clenches and she can see the frustration ride him hard, but he swallows and nods and looks down. "Yeah, we are."

Her body is awash with a disappointment her brain can't seem to dissipate.

It takes her less than a second to make a decision.

"That's okay." And she swivels around the bench with ease and speed. "We've got a whole carton of Karamel Sutra if you're up for it."

***  



End file.
